


Forever With You

by Zhie



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cousins, Crossing the Helcaraxe, First Time, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22338025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: Finrod and Fingon were once more than friends--but then, half-cousins happened.  And then more things happened.  And then opportunity happened.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18
Collections: Screw Yule 2020





	Forever With You

**Author's Note:**

> Some stories give no Fs. This story gives all the Fs.
> 
> Super Prompt #1 - A, B, I See What Your Did There - 350 points
> 
> Pick a letter. Every sentence needs to start with that letter, and every character in your story needs to start with that letter, too.  
> So it's just Finrod and Fingon, and I think all the sentences are good, but another set of eyes helps.
> 
> 100 points -- using a super prompt and writing over a thousand words
> 
> Total points: 450
> 
> Beta read by Narnvaeril - thank you!

“Frosty this morning,” remarked Finrod.

“Frosty every morning, Findaráto.” Fingon beckoned Finrod into the small tent that was set up at the forefront of the host that traveled across the grinding ice. “Forsaken and frozen and...sorry, I did not sleep last night.”

“Forgetting to sleep can be detrimental in this climate,” Finrod warned his cousin. “Four separate storms were seen on the horizon, so no one is of a mind to travel today. Fulfill your needs for rest, Findekáno--no one is going to interrupt you today.”

“Forced rest? Folly to think I could sleep now. For weeks, all I can think about is the way those clouds burned red on the other side of the sea and what madness has befallen him.”

“Findekáno, it was probably his father, not him.” Finrod sat down so that he could allow the flap to fall back in place. Fire was not an option in these lands, for it would risk putting holes in already unforgiving ice. Fingon did not reply. “Falling asleep for a little while will help. Fancy a song?” Finrod had with him his harp, strapped to his back, and he brought it forth now. “Findekáno?”

Finally, Fingon responded, his face solemn. “For him, I became a kinslayer, and he abandoned me.”

Frowning, Finrod placed the harp aside and offered Fingon a hug. “Freedom is our goal now, my friend.” Firmly, he held his cousin. Frequently in their youth, Finrod found ways to spend time with his cousins, and developed more than an affinity for the eldest of the lot. Fingon admitted to having feelings as well, but the summer past their majority when they met their half-cousins, things changed. Friends they remained, but Fingon turned his affections towards another. Few would remain so close to a former love, but Finrod found he was unable to forget, and at any chance given would fully embrace the fantasy that perhaps there was still a chance of a life together. “Focus on freedom,” Finrod added.

“Fell have I become, with blood on my hands, and thoughts in my heart and mind that I could easily slit his throat when next we meet cause great fear for me.” Fingon gripped Finrod tighter. “Forgive me, the hurt I caused you with my foolishness.”

“Freely, you are forgiven. Family we are,” said Finrod.

“Forgive my frail, fickle heart as well.”

Flabbergasted, Finrod eased back so that he could study Fingon’s face. “For you, all is forgiven,” whispered Finrod. “Fault is with us both--I could have been more forceful and insisted you consider the future.”

Fingon nodded, and then leaned forward. Feather-light, he pressed his lips against Finrod’s, and then sat back again. “Foolish was I.”

Fast came Finrod’s breath, and he returned the sentiment, but his kiss was fierce, and inadvertently he knocked Fingon to the floor. “Faith I had that if my fate was not to be with you then it would still be fulfilling.” 

“Fortune favors those who are brave,” answered Fingon.

Flustered, yet determined not to show it, Finrod gave Fingon a chance to back out of what he foresaw. “Foraging was my plan for the day, but I would stay here with you, if you ask it of me.”

Fervently, Fingon kissed Finrod again, and rolled his hips. Finrod was made aware of the stiffness in Fingon’s britches despite the copious layers of fabric between them. Furs were spread over the ground, and Finrod kneaded his fingers in them as he languidly kissed Fingon back. Felatio was not Finrod’s favorite, but then came the words he did not expect to hear from his beloved cousin.

“Fuck me.”

Fastidious care was given to preparing the tent and Fingon. Fifty thousand strong marched with them, and there was always a chance that even with the distance between tents that someone might come to investigate. Finrod tied every last leather binding down the flap that served as a door and heaped the furs together in one place so that they would not be subject to frostbite. Fingon, in the meantime, searched through his travel pack. Fortunately, he had packed a kit of healing supplies and pulled from it a jar of salve. Foul was the odor, but he handed it to Finrod nonetheless. 

Finding their way under the nest Finrod built, clothing was removed with careful haste. “Formidable as always,” remarked Finrod of Fingon’s erection.”

“Fair match for you.” Fingon reached forward and stroked his cousin a few times before he settled down on the furs. “Forbearance is ill-advised, my dear, if you wish me a good day’s slumber to follow.”

“Forthcoming,” promised Finrod as he hoisted Fingon’s legs over his shoulders and fit a slick finger within his tight passage. Fingon groaned and bucked his hips, and Finrod smiled and leaned down for another kiss. 

“Faithful I will be to you--only you!” Fingon trembled as Finrod doubled his efforts. “Fill me now!”

Frenzied fornication followed, soon giving way to an unexpected espousal as souls crashed together. Feral and impatient, Fingon twisted his body to maximize the depth of Finrod’s strokes. Finrod adjusted as needed, increasing his speed to the sound of Fingon’s desires. Faster and faster, he fucked Fingon against the fluffy furs beneath them, and Fingon moaned and gasped and dug his fingernails into Finrod’s forearms. Furiously intense, it was evident that the fervor and fracas of their sexual exploration was going to bring attention to the tent they were in if they continued too much longer, and so Finrod growled at Fingon, “Find your release--come for me, now!” 

Feracious was the discharge from Fingon, and in turn, the force of Finrod’s release. “Findekáno?” asked Finrod quietly when Fingon only lay still, eyes closed.

“Fractured was my heart, and you have mended it,” said Fingon softly.

Finrod cleaned them both quickly and brushed his fingers against Fingon’s cheek until his eyelashes fluttered and they looked upon one another. “Finally, can you rest?” asked Finrod.

“Finally,” mumbled Fingon sleepily, and he crooked a finger to invite Finrod to stay with him. 

Fatigue began to set in. Fingon nestled closely to Finrod, who enfolded him in his arms. “Fret not about tomorrow,” whispered Finrod as he kissed Fingon’s brow, “for we shall have each other, now and forever.” 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
